Wished
by StormShadowz
Summary: AU. Amelia wakes up in a prison cell only to realize that not all monsters live inside our head. Some of them tread this world. She has to escape this prison, but will have some help along the way. Damon/OC


Hey lovely people! I had this idea while trying to fall asleep and thought "why not?". This is AU, but I do hope you like this ^^ please review!

Amelia woke up as her body sent warnings on how badly positioned she lay on the cold and hard floor. She had definitely been in more comfortable places which suddenly made her realize she didn't know where she was. As she gathered some strength in her arms to lift her body and sit on her knees she took a better look of what surrounded her. It was a rather dark place with only the sunlight coming through a very elevated window just behind her. Besides, it was freezing cold and as much as she wanted to deny it,it sure looked like a prison cell.

"What the…"

Just a few minutes before she stood in her room's bathroom brushing her teeth and getting ready to enjoy a Friday night with some friends. Amelia honestly didn't know what had happened since her memory seemed to have been erased.

The next smart thing to do would be to find a way out, but if this was indeed a prison she would have no luck there. She rubbed her eyes and tried to make sense of where the door was seeing the scarce light wasn't helping.

Slowly Amelia rose to her feet and straightened her now ruined party dress that had cost her far too much. She glanced down the length of her body and cursed the multiple rips on it that made it unusable for future events.

"Damn." She huffed quite loudly.

Unfortunately she still had her high-heels on which made it impossible to walk on that pavement without twisting her ankle. That floor was filthy for sure, so she had no other option but to give her shoes an opportunity, hoping her feet would live to tell the tale later on. It took her only a few steps across the cell to find a door, but was steel-plated. Whoever had put her there sure as hell didn't want her to get out.

It didn't take much for her heart to start pounding loudly against her ribcage. Where the hell was she and why didn't she remember anything? She wasn't one to have a panic attack, but right now her body wasn't listening to reason.

A soft noise came from across the cell and Amelia's body shook violently.

She wasn't alone.

"Who's there?" She asked, not sure she wanted to find out. It was too dark for her to see anything more than 6 feet away from her.

No one answered back. "Who is there?"

"Unless you have an escape plan or a weapon with you, I wouldn't advise on shouting like that here." Came the voice of a man. Amelia took a few steps toward the source of that voice and halted just a few meters away, trying to look at him.

"I mean, who the hell brings _those_ shoes here?" He mocked still hidden in shadows. "This isn't a fashion show."

"What?" Amelia inquired, switching her fear state to a more angry one. "I don't even know where I am!"

The man stepped slowly out of where he stood and shortened the space between them. He drew a finger to his lips. "What did I say? Keep it down."

Amelia's mouth fell open as she gazed upon a young man whose features were ones of a sick man. He wasn't bad looking at all, but there was something wrong with him. His skin was as pale as death and even the way he spoke indicated how sick he was. Sweat drenched his face as his piercing blue eyes examined her. Had he been tortured?

After a minute of silence, he yanked violently away from her and sat on an improvised bed nearby. "Are you human?"

Was that even an option? "I'm actually an alien, thanks for noticing," Amelia seethed in outrage. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it has come clear to me now that you are nothing more than a human."

"Thanks."

She crossed her arms over her chest and decided to give him another try. "Where are we?"

He turned his head to look at her. The man had quite a nice face, she admitted. Strong, even features arranged in na eye-pleasing way. His eyebrows had an accentuated tilt, giving him that fatalist look that so many women adored. Even though she preferred men without a beard, his just decorated his face nicely.

"I have no idea," he sighed, sounding really tired. "Who are you?"

Should she lie or tell him the truth? "My name is Mary… Mary Nelva," she decided. "And you?"

"Damon Salvatore," he managed to say before turning to face the window. "They sure thought about everything when they put me here."

"What does that mean?" Amelia asked worriedly. She was taking a degree in nursing and what shocked her the most was how mean people in this world were. Maybe they out him sick or made him sick. However, if he was here meant he was no saint…

He didn't answer her and seemed more absorbed in his own thoughts.

"You are sick," she stated as a matter of fact rather than a question. "I mean, you _look_ sick."

"Thanks," was all he said in return.

She realized his body shook violently from time to time. It was as though he was fighting the urge to do something and was inwardly at war with himself. As a nurse we're told to look closely at every and any sign of illness and it was quite obvious he suffered from something.

"I'm a nurse," she blurted out, trying to sound more secure. "Well, still a student, but…errr… I can help."

"Trust me, you can't," he spat, laying himself on the bed. "Well, you actually could, but I highly doubt you'd do it willingly."

She ignored his remark and roamed her eyes as far as she could and spotted a jar. Amelia immediately grabbed it. Water. "Drink this."

"No."

"It's just water," she informed, rolling her eyes. Typical.

"To you. They put na herb there to weaken me."

Actually, she knew nothing of herbs, so she decided not to ask. "Are you anemic? You are really pale."

Damon's eyes shifted to regard her. "I am pale. But you could say I have chronic anemia."

The way he had said the last sentence sounded like a predator cornering his prey. She hook her head. "Why are you here?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if my dear brother was the one behind this."

What? "Does your brother do this often?"

"Not as often as he might like," Damon grinned weakly. "However, he would have come here to brag about it. Since he hasn't, I'm sure this wasn't his deed."

Amelia placed the jar at her feet. "Why am I here?"

Damon frowned at her. "How should I know? I have been here for more than a week, but you are something new."

"You should take a bath," Amelia said without thinking. "I don't mean you smell, but you're sweating and I'm sure you have a fever," when she moved closer to try to place her hand on his forehead he grabbed her wrist violently, preventing her from doing so. "It was just an advice."

He released her and his body shook again. "I'm in no condition to take a bath on my own. I can barely walk."

"I will help you," she offered promptly. "I'm used to helping people in need. It's no big deal."

He shot a sardonic look at her. "I'm no baby that needs help. I will do it later on my own."

Unfortunately for him, Amelia knew exactly what to say next. "I'm not going to bathe you. I'll just stand next to you to make sure you don't fall or anything."

"And where will you bathe me, Mary?" He asked, laughing.

"There's a door there with a sign saying 'Bathroom'," Amelia answered, spotting surprise in his eyes. "Yes, I'm observant."

If he had in fact anemia, he need blood. His state was fragile and she reckoned a few more days would be fatal to him. This time, she had to take her high-heels to be more comfortable and as her feet came in contact with the cold floor she yelped softly gathering a mocking grin from him.

"Come on, get up," she commanded, trying once more to help him.

Damon averted her touch again and walked slowly toward the door. Why was he acting like that? Was he afraid she would hurt him?

She promptly opened the door for him and the lights instantly lit up as they entered. At least it wasn't a filthy place and there was a bathtub with a curtain hovering over it that would do the job for Damon. Before Amelia could even tell him to strip, he started doing so taking his shirt off first.

"I can help," she said, trying again. "I'm not going to hurt you."

He did't stop his actions and when he turned around she saw a toned pale torso that made her cheeks burn. Her eyes were riveted on Damon's lean, defined frame – on his torso that flexed languidly as he started unbuttoning his pants. Afraid he would notice, she averted her eyes in search of a towel which could be found by the sink. She was acting childishly. Amelia had seen naked man. Even older than him. So, this shouldn't even be an issue here.

With a jolt, she suddenly realized what was happening. She landed in somewhere unknown and instead of finding ways to get out, she was helping a man take a bath not even knowing who he truly was and what he had done to be put here.

Amelia wrinkled her nose and took the towel in her hands as he now stood completely naked – and fortunately – with his back facing her. The way the muscles on his back rippled across it was mesmerizing.

Damon cleared his throat wittingly. "You've never seen a man naked?"

"Of course I have," she mused, handing him the towel still not looking downward on his body. He took at and wrapped it around his lower half and then turning again. Unwillingly, she couldn't stop her eyes from following the trail of muscles that sadly rippled beneath the piece of cloth leaving much to imagination.

"Then maybe you should stop gawking so intensely at my body," he grinned deviously. Apparently, he wasn't nearly sick enough if he was making such remarks. "I know I look good."

"Cocky much?" Amelia snorted, indicating the bath with her finger so he would do what he was there to do. "Need help?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so. If you want, you can rub my back and sing me songs."

Amelia rolled her eyes and turned her back on him so he would have more privacy, always worried he might fall and rip his head open. As soon as she heard the sound of water falling on the tub, she relaxed and hoped for the best.

* * *

Damon would be lying if he said this girl was totally clueless. He was almost positive she hadn't bought the anemic story.

She didn't look over seventeen and that made his whole body tense as he imagined how good her blood must taste. Blonde wait-length hair cascaded down her back and her dark eyes contrasted perfectly. Some freckles covered her nose which he found to be quite nice. The dress, however… poor choice of clothes for a man whose hunger was dangerously high. It hung tightly to her body to highlight her curves and the only downside to it was that it covered most of her legs.

He reckoned whoever was keeping him here was oblivious to her presence. They would never place a human in the same room as him. He had wanted to bite her ever since he had smelled her. The scarce strength he had left in his body was channeled to stop his urges. She wouldn't let him bite her without making a fuss and alerting everyone to her presence. Damon couldn't even compel her since he was this weak which reminded him of his pathetic brother.

They did to him what he had done previously using Caroline. He wasn't fool enough to drink something containing vervain. He had gone over and over his list of victims in the past week but found no connection. The cell door had that damned herb impregnated on it so he wouldn't there touch it.

He need blood fast. She would be the perfect victim, but an unwilling one. And they immediately notice if he had taken any human blood… the vervain effect were obvious and so were human blood's.

Damon had never been this weak and he doubted one more day with no blood would prevent him from moving.

He stepped out of the tub to see Mary still not daring to look at him. Wrapping the towel around him, he inhaled her scent. "About what I said before. There is actually a way to help me with this condition."

That had caught her attention. "Are you dressed?"

"No," Damon answered. Was this for real? "It doesn't matter."

"You need privacy."

Annoyed at her soft heart, he took a few steps in her direction. He knew she had sensed how close he was. "If you give me a few drops of your blood I will live."

This time, she rotated on her feet and was fully facing him now with a shocked look. "What do you mean by that? There is no transfusion material here."

Damon said nothing as he expected her to have an epiphany. Obviously, she didn't believe vampires truly existed.

He noticed she had a pin on her dress. "If you cut your finger with that pin I'll prove it to you."

Damon cursed how weak he was. This wouldn't be necessary if he had the strength to persuade her. It seemed he had to go old fashion on this matter.

By now, he saw panic in her eyes. "There is no way drinking blood will help that anemia. You know that, right?"

"In my case, it does," Damon answered, sounding slightly annoyed. "Do you believe in vampires, little girl?"

Her reaction surprised him: she widened her eyes and let out a loud laughter. "Really? You expect me to believe that?"

No, he actually didn't. "I can prove it," he contested, trying to sound weaker. "I need it. _Please_."

Damon wasn't one to beg for blood. He had always taken any blood he wanted without the need for courtesy. Seeing, that his statement didn't make her less skeptical, made him very angry.

"You're crazy," was all she said, handing him his clothes. "Those are stories told to children to scare them."

"I reckon you'd also be scared if you found out that to be true," he pointed out, grabbing his clothes but not moving an inch to dress. "And I know _you _know I'm telling the truth. All I am asking is for a few drops of blood."

Another laughter. This was getting annoying. "I don't believe it."

"I'll make you a believer," Damon put on his persuasive tone.

He knew curiosity killed the cat and that human's curiosity would always need to be satisfied. Even if she didn't buy any of it, she would want the proof of that. He noticed that when he saw Mary avert her eyes to the pin on her dress. "Just on drop."

He wouldn't be able to control his transformation if she presented him blood, so Damon hoped she wouldn't back out. The girl removed the pin and placed the tip on her thumb.

_Damn_. He needed her neck.

"Do it on your neck," he said, half-pleading which made him look weaker.

She blinked at him. "No way."

"_Please_."

"I suppose you have fangs, right?" Mary pointed out correctly. _Smart girl_. "If you are a vampire or a blood sucker, use them instead."

"Be careful with what you wish for," he warned, lowering his voice and closing the gap between them. "It'll hurt a lot more."

"You do realize I'm not buying any of that bullshit, right?" She warned him as if talking to a child who still believed in Santa. "But you're welcome to give me some laughter."

Damon didn't need to be told twice and the space between them was reduced to none as he pushed against a wall. He expected her to let out a cry in protest, but she laughed instead. She really should stop doing that. He pushed her hair away from her neck, exposing that area to him. Her arteries pulsated erratically with fear and he had to fight the urge to sink his teeth on her violently. That would scare her away and then he'd have no one to feed from. The vampire felt her heart beat intensely against him and her breath fanned his exposed torso.

There was a way of making this less painful to her. "Bite your wrist. That way, your body will focus on that area and it will hurt less when I do it."

"Okay," Mary said, half-smiling. Still not believing his word. She did as she was told and brought her left wrist to her mouth and sank her teeth in it.

Well, it was now or never. Damon lowered his head to her neck and let his fangs come out and with no further warning he let them bury in her flesh. One of his hands was at the base of her neck preventing her from fidgeting as he fed on her. As he had expected, her blood tasted divinely and as it penetrated his body he realized he was enjoying this far too much. His body started to respond to it in a way he didn't want. Her free hand came in contact with his torso and she let her nails dig in.

He had to stop or he'd reach the point of no return and he'd kill her. The worst was that the way her body responded to him made him want to rip her dress apart and take her right there. Damon knew she had realized that for she jolted in surprise as his erection pressed against her.

Damon had to yank himself half-room to stop. He expected her to be crying or yelling, but she was merely panting. "What the hell was that?"


End file.
